


Iced Cappuccino

by a_gay_poster



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Happy Birthday Eeri!, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 10:02:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18386204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_gay_poster/pseuds/a_gay_poster
Summary: It's Gaara's first week working at the coffee shop when he meets his coworker's asshole cousin. And his coworker's asshole cousin's handsome friend. Too bad he's bound to be an asshole, too.





	Iced Cappuccino

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ContrEeri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ContrEeri/gifts).



> This story is for the incredible, amazing, super talented [ContrEeri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/contreeri/works)! Happy birthday, friend!!! Thank you so much for everything you have done for this little corner of fandom. Your writing, your skill, and your positive attitude in the face of any adversity inspires me every single day! I hope your birthday is as amazing as you are!
> 
> This story was beta'd by my wife, the wonderful [trustmeimthe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trustmeimthe/works). Thank you for bringing your years of barista knowledge to bear on this little fic. And thanks for always putting up with my Naruto nonsense.

“Asshole alert at 9 o’clock,” Shino mutters under his breath, wiping off his hands on the towel at his waist. 

Gaara leans over the counter to look at the door. 

“Who, that guy?” 

Shino grunts an affirmation.

“What’s his deal?” Gaara asks, tightening his apron strings for what feels like the eighteenth time that day. 

It’s only his fourth day of training at the coffee shop, and he’s slowly learning the worst types of customers. There’s the soccer moms, who order ridiculously complex beverages and closely watch them being made as if they have corporate on speed dial. There’s the yoga enthusiasts, who pay with sweaty dollar bills pulled out of god-knows-where. There’s the corporate guys, who come in on their lunch break with a list of orders from their office a mile long, rattle them all off in a single breath, and expect the staff to memorize it. There’s the students from the community college, who barely look up from their phones to mumble their orders. 

But worse than any of those are _the assholes_. A succinct, descriptive moniker, and one that comes with its own warning cry. Each asshole is different, but every single one of them is horrifying and uncomfortable to deal with. So far, there’s been Halitosis Asshole, who leans in close over the counter to give his order with rank breath and seems to delight in the barista’s disgusted expressions; Creepy Flirting Asshole, who always times his approach to the counter to when a female barista is behind the register; and Pretentious Art Major Asshole, who loudly critiques the shop’s decor every time he comes in but doesn’t seem capable of simply finding a less visually abhorrent location to get his caffeine fix. The other baristas have been good to Gaara so far, guarding him from the worst of their approaches, but he knows it’s only a matter of time before he’s released from training and has to deal with them on his own. 

“What’s his issue?” Gaara asks, ready to be told that the long-haired, pale-eyed man stepping through the door is an open cannibalism enthusiast, or some novel kind of sex pest, or (worst of all) a straight male novelist. 

"That's Hina's cousin Neji," Naruto says, leaning over Gaara's shoulder. He's a little uncomfortably close, but Gaara has already been made aware that that's Naruto's way of being friendly. Naruto doesn’t really _do_ personal space.

"Oh," Gaara says, looking back and forth between Hinata, who has just ducked her chin down so low that only the top of her head is visible, and the man at the door. "You're related?"

Hinata nods silently, eyes fixed on the floor.

"So, what did he do?" Gaara presses. He wants to know what he's up against before the guy makes it to the counter.

"He spit in my face," Hinata says quietly. 

"He _what_?" Gaara says, taken aback. "Why is he allowed to come back?"

" _I_ wanted to trespass him from the store," Shino says haughtily. "But _someone_ didn't think it was that big of a deal." He turns his head away, crossing his arms over his chest. 

"He ordered a scone," Hinata starts to explain, her voice wavering and high-pitched. It's the most Gaara has heard her speak since his first day. "And then he took a bite and told me it was unacceptably dry, and he sprayed crumbs all over me." 

"Of course it was dry," Shino says. "Who wants a wet scone?"

"I'll show him a wet scone," Naruto says, making an exaggerated noise like he's hocking up spit. 

Shino glares at him over his dark glasses. 

"You know as well as I do that that would get us shut down," he warns. 

Naruto growls lowly. 

"C'mon, Hina," he says, grabbing her by the upper arm. Hinata's legs shake like she's about to pass out. "I'll walk you to the back. You can hang out there until he's gone."

They vanish behind the Employees Only door. 

Shino stalks up to the register and regards Neji's approach with a quiet intensity. Gaara lingers uncertainly behind the espresso machine, eager to see what happens next.

"Looks like Asshole brought an asshole friend," Shino whispers out of the corner of his mouth, jerking his head towards the entry of the store. 

Coming through the door behind Neji is another man, taller and with shorter hair. He claps Neji on the shoulder and they exchange terse nods. The other man has a severe expression on his face, all downturned mouth and thick eyebrows. Between his ramrod straight posture and the size of his biceps, he looks like he could be Neji's bodyguard. 

Neji sidles up to the bar, an irritated sneer already growing across his face. The muscled guy behind him glowers. 

"Good morning, Neji," Shino says stiffly.

Neji regards him with cool indifference.

"Yeah, can I get a decaf soy latte with an extra shot and cream?" he says, ignoring Shino's greeting entirely. 

Gaara sees Shino rolling his eyes behind his glasses as he rings Neji up. Neji doesn't tip. 

Neji's friend orders a plain green tea, excessively formal with his "Please may I have..." and his "Thank you very much." Gaara can't quite tell if he's being sarcastic, or if he's really just that polite. Either way, that tight frown on his face hasn't changed. Gaara fails to notice if he tipped or not, consumed with wrangling the hot water setting on the espresso machine. 

Over the hiss of the steam wand, he overhears Neji leaning close in to the counter to interrogate Shino.

"Hinata was supposed to have a shift today, where is she?" 

"It's none of your business," Shino says, seething. 

"It's irresponsible of her to miss work. Did her schedule change? She didn't mention it."

"Hinata may share her work schedule with whomever she chooses," Shino says primly.

During their tense standoff, Neji's friend has made his way to pick-up counter at the other end of the bar. Gaara can feel his intense stare on the back of his neck, probably watching him for the tiniest sign of a mistake to report back to Neji so they can demand a refund and make Gaara's life more difficult.

Just then, Naruto swings the kitchen door open.

"Bushy Brows!" he cries. 

Does Naruto ... know this guy, somehow? It would make sense, Gaara reasons. Naruto seems to know just about everyone in this town. Gaara doesn’t have time to puzzle over the matter further, the portafilter on the espresso machine giving him no end of trouble.

Whether they know each other or not, Naruto and 'Bushy Brows' seem to be getting on like a house on fire. Neji's friend is blabbering away, gesturing with his hands expansively, and Naruto's getting sucked right into it. Turns out the guy isn't just friends with an asshole, he's also the second worst kind of customer: the one that just doesn't know when to shut the hell up. Fortunately, Naruto deals with most of those - seems to enjoy it, really. All the better, since Gaara is an awkward conversationalist on the best of days, and worse when he's under pressure.

Gaara can't help but notice that when Neji's friend starts getting really into his conversation with Naruto, his whole face lights up. He has a stupidly handsome smile, the kind of thing you'd see on a billboard for a dentist’s office. Bright white, straight teeth, probably had a lot of expensive orthodontia as a kid. His eyes sparkle when he grins. Shame he's obviously a huge jerk.

Gaara has to clear his throat to get Naruto's attention when the drink orders are ready. Neji has already loped off to go sulk on one of the plush couches in the corner, his standoff with Shino having reached its detente. Naruto wheels around like he's just noticed Gaara's presence. 

"Oh, Gaara!" Naruto says, a little too loudly for how close Gaara is standing. "This is my friend from high school, Bushy Brows!"

Gaara doesn't say anything. He's close to certain that 'Bushy Brows' isn't the man's given name, and he doesn't want to offend him.

"You can call me Lee- " Bushy Brows starts to say, looking up from his phone. He falters when he meets Gaara's gaze. "Oh!" he says. His voice is almost as loud as Naruto's. "You have the most stunning eyes!"

Gaara freezes with the cups extended in his hands. 

He has two rules when it comes to work: 1. He doesn't hit on anyone, and 2. He doesn't get hit on. But somehow, this doesn't feel like a cheesy line or some kind of pass. Lee's expression is completely genuine. It doesn't hurt that he has the type of chiseled cheekbones that Gaara could easily die for. Gaara feels his face heat up.

"I'm so sorry!" Lee blurts. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable!"

"It's fine," Gaara says quietly. "Here's your tea."

He passes the tea over the counter and tries not to think about the way Lee's fingers graze his on the cup. 

"Let me just take this over to Neji," Lee says to Naruto, "then I'll be right back so we can catch up more!"

Gaara is so intently watching Lee's exchange with Neji (involving much gesticulating on Lee's part and even more eye-rolling on Neji's), that he's startled when Naruto speaks in his ear.

"So," he says, "Lee's a good lookin' guy, huh?"

Lee is in the middle of bending over to dig something out of Neji’s bag. Gaara hadn’t noticed it before, but he’s wearing some kind of running tights under his shorts. He has the most defined calves Gaara’s ever seen.

“What?” Gaara says absently.

Naruto giggles, then says, “Hey, is your rag dirty?”

Gaara tears his eyes away from Lee’s impeccably sculpted leg muscles for long enough to acknowledge that the dishrag tucked into his apron is indeed dirty.

“Yeah.”

“Cool,” Naruto says, grabbing it off Gaara’s apron without preamble and tossing him a fresh one. “I’m gonna go run a load of towels next door!” he calls. 

More than likely, this actually means Naruto is going to go out into the alley behind the store to vape with Killer B, the guy who runs the laundromat in the next unit over. Gaara has not met Killer B yet, but he has heard him rapping loudly (badly) in the alleyway, and he has smelled the cloud of hideous, cherry-scented fug that Naruto brings with him when he comes back from ‘doing the laundry’. Shino waves him on regardless. 

“Did Naruto leave?” Lee asks, suddenly much too close, craning over the bar. 

Gaara continues wiping down the steam wand for a moment too long before replying, “Yeah.” 

“Oh, well,” Lee says cheerily. “I’ll just catch him the next time I come!”

“Next time?” Gaara asks. 

Lee outright beams, his eyes crinkling closed with the expression.

“Of course!” he says. “As much as Neji complains about this place, I can see why he keeps coming back.”

“Oh?”

“It’s so quaint and lovely!”

Gaara looks around, as if the atmosphere would have changed just with Lee’s declaration. The coffee shop looks the same as every other coffee shop he’s ever been in: cushy upholstered chairs, small tables laden with students’ books and laptops, mass-produced canvases of cheerfully steaming beverages with pithy phrases like ‘Wake Up Call’ on the walls. 

“It is?” he says. 

“I knew you’d agree!” Lee is still grinning madly, his enthusiasm infectious. Gaara finds the corner of his lip twitching up in accord. 

Neji walks by and slaps Lee on the back of the shoulder, his harassment campaign apparently ended for the day. Lee starts.

“Oh, I have to go! I’ll see you around- “ Lee pauses, glances at Gaara’s name tag. “- Gaara!” 

He waves as he follows Neji out the door.

Gaara doesn’t know why his ears feel hot, or why Naruto keeps waggling his eyebrows at him for the rest of the day, or why he can’t find the words to explain what happened when Hinata peeks her head around the back room door and asks, “Is he gone?”

He chalks it up to first week jitters and moves on.

* * *

Lee comes back several times over the next few weeks. Sometimes he comes with Neji in tow, sending Hinata scurrying for the back room. Sometimes he arrives accompanied by a brown haired girl, who makes comments that make Hinata blush even harder than when Naruto compliments her pastries. But most often he comes alone. 

Over those weeks, two things become clear: First, Lee _really_ seems to like the coffee shop. And second, he knows absolutely _nothing_ about coffee. 

“Does a latte have espresso in it?” he asks Gaara one morning as he debates his order. He says it like ‘ex-presso’, and the pronunciation makes Gaara wince.

Gaara points him to the plastic-covered menu, where the description of the beverage is in bold print: **Traditional espresso with steamed milk, topped with a layer of smooth foam.**

“Oh,” Lee says, abashed. His face turns bright red when he blushes, the color straying down into his neck. It’s adorable. “Sorry, I don’t know much about coffee.”

“It’s fine,” Gaara says, a common refrain in his conversations with Lee. The guy is nothing if not unfailingly polite, consistently apologetic when he gets things wrong. “That’s not the stupidest question I’ve heard today.”

“It isn’t?” Lee brightens. “What was the stupidest?” 

Gaara has to think on it for a moment. In fairness, the question Lee asked him was _pretty_ stupid.

“Someone this morning asked me if they could get a Tai Chi Latte.”

Lee bursts into laughter. Head thrown back, pounding his fist on the counter, the whole nine yards. Gaara feels like sunshine just exploded in his chest. The sensation is unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. He rubs at his sternum, but the feeling doesn’t go away. 

“Oh my goodness,” Lee says, catching his breath. He wipes at his eyes dramatically. “That’s hilarious. You- “ He points at Gaara. “- are hilarious.”

Gaara looks over his shoulder, in case Lee is talking to someone else, someone who is _actually_ funny. 

“Me?” he asks, pointing at himself. 

Lee giggles.

“See, this is what I’m talking about!” He chuckles as he shoves far too many dollar bills into the tip jar. “That dry humor. You just make my morning.”

Gaara looks to his left and right, unsure how to respond. He catches Shino’s eye at the espresso machine. Shino merely shrugs.

“Um, happy to help,” he says. 

Lee’s smile is so wide that Gaara wonders if it hurts his cheeks.

* * *

A few weeks later, Lee comes in after a run. With the winter air warming into spring, Lee has shed his running tights for shorts that end well above the knee. Gaara isn’t complaining, although he was taken aback the first time he saw the massive scar on Lee’s left leg. 

“I was in a car accident,” Lee had explained, “when I was younger.” 

Gaara was impressed that Lee could run at all, after Lee had detailed how much of his leg was shattered and rebuilt, more metal than bone. 

“I took up running after my accident,” Lee had told him. “It makes me feel like I’m leaving all my problems behind. You should come with me sometime!”

Gaara, who sometimes gets winded going up long flights of stairs, had demurred, though the temptation to see Lee panting and sweating had been strong.

The conversation had gone on long enough that Shino had started clearing his throat and reminded Gaara to get back to work. 

When Lee approaches the counter, forehead shiny and hair pushed back out of his face with a sweatband, it takes Gaara a moment to gain his composure to greet him.

“Good morning, Gaara,” Lee says sweetly. “Do you guys have anything healthy to eat? I’m starving.”

Gaara looks to his left, at the glass case stacked with pastries, each painstakingly decorated by Hinata. He looks over his shoulder, to the baskets filled with cinnamon and chocolate chip bagels. He looks down at the counter in front of him, then back at Lee’s smiling face.  
“We have bananas,” he says, indicating the bowl of them with a nod of his head.

Lee looks down at the bowl of bananas on the counter, each rapidly browning with withered stems. He grimaces, but then he fortifies himself and grins.

“Great! I will take one banana!” 

Gaara throws in a bran muffin for free. 

Gaara feigns surprise when Lee calls him over as he’s cleaning the tables in the back corner. The tables in Lee’s customary corner get a lot of extra TLC these days. 

“Please, share this with me,” Lee invites him. 

“It’s for you,” Gaara protests.

“I can’t eat all of it and I don’t want it to go to waste.” 

Gaara, who has seen Lee plow his way through an entire box of protein bars more than once, raises a skeptical eyebrow.

“What I mean is, it’s got too many sugars. It will throw off my nutritional macros for the day.” 

Gaara nods like he understands what Lee has just said. He glances around to make sure nobody is watching him; his break is still thirty minutes away. The only other person behind the counter right now is Hinata, fussing preciously over an arrangement of sugar cookies. Gaara tentatively takes a seat on the edge of the cushioned chair next to Lee’s. 

Lee pushes him three quarters of the muffin. 

“I have a marathon coming up in two weeks,” Lee explains, “so I have to be very careful about what I’m eating right now for maximum performance.” 

“That’s impressive,” Gaara says, with genuine awe in his voice. He can’t even imagine running a 5k. 

“It’s not such a big deal,” Lee brushes him off. “I’m planning for a double marathon later this spring. Now _that’s_ going to be a real challenge!”

Gaara just boggles at him, convinced at this point that Lee is genuinely insane. Lee’s still grinning that same irrepressible grin, so he’s probably not lying.

“Nah,” Naruto confirms for him later, up to his elbows in soapy water. Gaara’s cornered him after closing time to demand additional details on Lee, as has become his custom. “He’s been crazy like that since high school. Always working on some training or another. He beat our district record for track and field in, like, ten events or something his senior year? The dude’s a madman.”

“He must have been very popular,” Gaara says. 

“Who, Lee?” Naruto laughs. “I don’t even think he went on a date the entire time we were in school together.”

This takes Gaara by surprise. He can’t imagine someone so genuine, so good-natured, _not_ being incredibly popular. Between his many high schools, foster homes, and disciplinary placements, Gaara had ample opportunity to make an intensive study of the popular kids; he feels himself to be something of an expert. He knows (and coveted) all their qualities: guileless, excellent athletes, too smiley for their own good. Lee fits all these characteristics to a T. 

“How is that possible?” he asks Naruto.

“I’unno,” Naruto shrugs it off. “He’s not really the type of guy who hits it off well with the ladies, I guess. Too intense.”

“I like that he’s intense,” Gaara says flatly.

Naruto guffaws.

“Yeah, man, we noticed.” He hands Gaara a stack of cups to lay out in the drying rack. “We’ve got bets running on which of you two proposes first.” 

Gaara turns around to look at his coworkers. Shino spins around in his computer chair and pretends to count the cash into the lockbox again. Hinata pauses in her sweeping, her shoulders rising up to her ears. 

Gaara hasn’t felt so betrayed since his dad ‘accidentally’ threw out his teddy bear in second grade.

* * *

The following week, Lee brings Neji along with him for an afternoon coffee. Hinata spies them at the door and immediately vanishes into the back room, Naruto hot on her heels. 

“I’m taking my lunch break,” Shino grumbles, and walks out the back door without even taking his apron off. 

This leaves Gaara to man the register alone. 

“Hi Lee, Neji,” Gaara greets them. 

“Hello Gaara!” Lee smiles broadly. “Isn’t it a beautiful afternoon?”

Neji doesn’t even acknowledge him, flicking his long hair over his shoulder and letting water splatter the counter.

Gaara looks out the front door. It’s been chilly all day, nothing but grey skies and drizzle. 

“It’s raining,” Gaara says. 

“I know! Isn’t it invigorating?” Lee claps his hands together loudly. “It’s got me in the mood for a cold beverage!”

Gaara feels the corner of his mouth quirk up. He can never predict what’s going to come out of Lee’s mouth next. 

“Can I get an iced cappuccino?”

Gaara’s face falls.

“No,” he says. 

Lee’s face crumples into a frown. He looks despondent, and it tugs at Gaara’s heartstrings so much he almost wants to lie to him. 

“Why not?” Lee asks. “Did I do something wrong?”

Gaara briefly considers just making him an iced latte and playing it off as a joke.

“No, but iced cappuccinos don’t exist. The ice makes all the foam disintegrate.”

“Ohhh,” Lee says, as Neji snorts under his breath. “You’re so smart!”

Gaara feels himself starting to blush again. At this rate, Lee is going to start thinking he has some kind of chronic sunburn.

“In that case, just a plain latte will be fine.”

“Those aren’t cold,” Gaara reminds him. 

“That’s okay!” Lee says, just as the air conditioner in the shop kicks on. Gaara notices goosebumps on Lee’s arm. “I think something warm would hit the spot just right!”

Neji rolls his eyes throughout placing his order, then leans in towards the counter. Gaara resists mimicking him. 

“Is Hinata here today?” he asks.

“Who?” Gaara deadpans.

“My cousin, Hinata.”

“I don’t know who that is,” Gaara lies. “I’m new here. I haven’t learned everyone’s names yet.”

Neji’s lips purse so hard that Gaara briefly worries about his blood flow. He turns and flounces to the corner of the shop, leaving Lee to pay for his drink. 

“Lee,” Gaara says over the espresso machine, as he works on Neji’s large skim latte with 2% foam. “You’re such a nice guy. Why are you friends with a jackass like Neji?”

Lee looks over his shoulder to where Neji is perched, gargoyle-like, on one of the cushier chairs in Lee’s preferred corner. 

“Neji is … complex,” Lee says, after a moment of thought. “We’ve been friends since childhood! His relationship with his family is … strained, to say the least, so he comes across a little harsh sometimes.”

Gaara nods, considering. Lee really does see the best in everyone, doesn’t he?

“You shouldn’t have teased him like you did earlier, either,” Lee scolds him. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“You know he terrifies Hinata, right?” Gaara asks him. “She runs into the back room like a frightened rabbit any time she sees him.” This much is true, although Gaara is understating the matter for Lee’s benefit. He’s seen Hinata shaking in the back room after Neji leaves more than once now, the symptoms of a panic attack all too familiar in her white knuckles and shuddering breaths. 

Lee’s brows draw down to meet in the middle. 

“I didn’t know she was scared of him,” he says, his expression consternated. “He doesn’t mean to upset her. He’s just trying to keep an eye on her. He’s not good at expressing himself.”

“I don’t think she wants him keeping an eye on her,” Gaara prods. 

“I’ll talk to him,” Lee says at length. 

Gaara passes the drinks over the bar to Lee and watches him walk over to sit with Neji, the two of them falling into a deep and tense conversation. 

When Gaara stops by their table an hour later to bring Lee a refill, they both fall silent. Neji watches him warily. 

Gaara tries his best to smile back at Lee as he clears away their empty cups and leaves Lee a new one. Hinata’s been teaching him latte art, and this is his first time presenting one of his attempts to a customer. Hinata isn’t the best teacher - too quiet and too hesitant to correct Gaara when he does something wrong - but he thinks that with his perfectionist streak he’s at least managed to create a passable foam heart. 

He ducks away from the table and hears Lee’s excited, “Ooh!” behind him. He hopes Lee can’t see the flush on the back of his neck.

On their way out the door, Gaara watches Lee stop Neji by the register. He clears his throat repeatedly and insistently until Neji leaves behind a generous tip.

* * *

The week of Lee’s race, he doesn’t come by the shop at all. 

Gaara corners Naruto by the dish bin in a panic.

“I’m going for it,” Gaara says. “When he gets back.”

“Huh?” Naruto says. He has half a donut dangling out of his mouth. The way he eats while he does the dishes is disgusting.

“I’m going to ask Lee out.”

“Oh, word?” Naruto says. A bunch of donut crumbs fall out of his mouth and into the dishwater. “I thought y’all were already going out.”

“No,” Gaara says, his voice low with aggravation. “I’m dropping a lot of hints, but I don’t think he’s catching on. I need him to know that I like him for real, and that it isn’t just my friendly work persona.”

Naruto barks a laugh. Half of his donut tumbles out of his mouth and into the soapy water. Gaara suppresses a gag.

“Oh no,” Naruto moans despondently. He cranes his neck over his shoulder. “Hey, Hina! Are there any more donuts left over?”

“N-no,” Hinata stammers from the decorating station. “I can make more if you like.”

“Don’t waste product,” Shino calls sharply from the front of the store.

“Yes, boss!” Naruto slaps his forehead in a sarcastic salute. Suds dribble down into his eyebrows. He turns back to Gaara. “Listen, dude, you don’t _have_ a friendly work persona. You’re pretty much just a stone-cold bitch at all times. I think Lee knows that.”

“He thinks I’m a bitch?” Gaara says numbly.

“No, god!” Naruto slaps him wetly on the back. Gaara cringes. “I’m sayin’ you don’t have anything to worry about. It’s obvious you’re being genuine with him. Even someone as thick as Lee can see that.”

“Lee isn’t thick,” Gaara says hotly.

“I dunno, dude, have you seen his glutes?” Naruto crows. 

Gaara turns the sprayer so it’s facing Naruto and holds down the lever.

* * *

Gaara’s in the back folding cleaning rags when he hears Lee’s voice again. He peeks around the back room door into the bar area. Lee has Naruto cornered near the pick-up counter, whispering to him in what passes for a low voice from Lee.

“- he’s so sweet and gentle, how can I be sure that he’s not just- “ Gaara overhears him saying, before Lee catches his eye.

“Oh, hello, Gaara!” he calls, waving his hand in the air. His wrist is wrapped in a bright orange cast. 

Caught in the act, Gaara steps out of the kitchen and behind the counter. As he gets closer, Naruto spins around and starts making his way to the back. He bumps shoulders with Gaara as they cross paths.

“You got this,” he mutters out of the corner of his mouth. 

When Gaara approaches the counter, he sees Lee has not one, but two casts, one on each wrist.

“I see your race went well,” Gaara says.

“It went great!” Lee cries. “I came in third! But when I got to the finish line, I tripped, and, well- “ He holds up both hands. “Colles fractures in both wrists.”

“Ouch,” Gaara says.

“It’s not so bad. I get to wear these cool casts for six weeks!”

“That sucks.”

“Not at all! It’s simply an opportunity for me to become more creative with my training!”

Gaara imagines Lee is probably the only person in the world who would get excited about being in a cast. He tucks his chin down, unable to suppress a laugh.

Shino slides Lee’s drink across the counter, and Lee goes to take it.

“Go sit down,” Gaara stops him. “I’ll bring it to you.”

“It’s fine, Gaara,” Lee protests. “I will just carry it like so- “ He begins to lift the cup between two clumsy, casted hands. 

“Let me- ”

“I’ve got it!” Lee shouts. 

Gaara freezes.

“Please,” Lee lowers his voice. “I’m not an invalid. I can carry my own coffee.”

Gaara drops his outstretched hand. _I was just trying to help,_ he wants to say, but instead he just nods. Perhaps this isn’t the right day to make his move. 

Lee begins walking carefully to the soft chairs in the back corner, when a woman scoots back from her table. Her chair collides with Lee’s left knee, the one that’s full of pins and hardware. Gaara watches in horror as Lee stumbles. The coffee goes flying up, up. Lee shoves the woman out of the way; she staggers forward with a shout. His left leg shoots out from under him. He falls backwards, his injured arms going up and his ass landing flatly on the floor. The coffee cup tumbles over in the air, hot liquid flying. The coffee, a perfect, piping 190 degrees, comes splattering down all over Lee’s shirt.

In an instant, Gaara has skidded out from behind the counter and is at Lee’s side, rag in hand. 

“Aah!” Lee yells. “It’s still- “ He starts wriggling his way out of his shirt, dropping it beside him. 

“Oh shit, oh shit,” Gaara says. “Are you okay?” He leans over Lee’s muscled torso, frantically mopping up the coffee.

Gaara is suddenly very aware that he is straddling a shirtless Lee in the middle of the coffee shop floor. He looks down at Lee’s chest, where patchy patterns of red are already starting to break out.

“You’re scalded,” he says. “Come on to the back, we’ve got a First Aid kit.”

He makes Lee sit on the edge of the dishwashing sink so he can tend to him. He wets a pile of freshly folded rags and starts squeezing cold water onto Lee’s chest and stomach, standing between his spread legs. 

“Hinata,” Gaara calls, “bring me the First Aid kit. And there’s a big spill in the front that needs to be mopped up.”

He barely hears Hinata approach before she sets the First Aid kit beside him with a clatter.

“That looks nasty,” she says, voice wavering. “Do you need me to call somebody?”

“No need!” Lee protests, waving his arms. “I’m fine! It’s just a little burn.”

Hinata opens the First Aid kit and starts rifling through.

“We have some burn cream, I could- “

“No,” Gaara stops her. “That will hold the heat in. I need to finish cooling him down first. Just go up front, I’ll take care of this.”`

“Okay,” Hinata says, and leaves just as quietly as she came.

“You know a lot about First Aid,” Lee says, his voice soft in a way Gaara has never heard it before.

“It’s just something you had to know in my house, growing up.” Gaara’s shoulder shifts in instinctively; beneath his shirt, there’s the puckering of a decade-old burn scar. 

“Oh,” Lee says. “Did you take a class, or- ?”

“My sister taught me,” Gaara says shortly. “So I could do it myself if she wasn’t around.”

Lee falls into silence at that, watching Gaara’s diligent hands. 

About five minutes and twenty cold, wet rags in, the redness on Lee’s chest has reduced significantly.

“I think it’s okay,” Lee says. He looks up and meets Gaara’s eyes. 

Gaara freezes, sodden dishrag dripping onto the floor, caught in Lee’s dark-eyed stare.

“Thank you,” Lee says softly. “You were my hero today.”

“It’s just water,” Gaara says lamely.

“I owe you one,” Lee says. “Maybe we could go out for coffee sometime?”

Gaara looks around the back room, at the bags of coffee beans and filters piled high on every surface. He looks back at Lee, eyebrows raised in question.

“Not here!” Lee laughs, sliding off the dish sink to stand. Gaara doesn’t think to step back. He’s got that fluttering, sunshine-bursting feeling in his chest again. Lee is so very, very close to him. “I meant, somewhere else.”

“Are you asking me out?” Gaara says, just in case he’s misreading things. 

“If you want,” Lee offers. He goes to rub the back of his neck, then winces when he scrapes it with his cast.

“I’d like that,” Gaara says quietly. 

“Great!” Lee replies. “I just have one more question for you.” Lee turns and starts digging in his back pocket.

Gaara blinks in confusion, waiting for Lee to continue.

Lee turns back around, holding out a Sharpie.

“Will you sign my cast?” 

Gaara smiles. A real smile, with teeth and everything. It feels a little bit awkward, but if the way Lee is smiling back is any indicator, he likes it a lot.

“Of course,” Gaara says, taking Lee’s hand gently in his. 

_Lee-_ he writes, _Take care of yourself, because there won’t always be a barista around to patch you up._

He signs his name with a flourish and a tiny heart. 

Lee looks down at the message, looks back up at Gaara and beams. 

“Can I pick you up tonight at five?” he asks.

“I’ll be here,” Gaara replies.

From somewhere over his shoulder, near the door to the bar, he hears Naruto groaning in defeat.

“You owe me twenty bucks,” Shino says. “Now get back to work.”


End file.
